


Frosted Web

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: F/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas on the Nemesis, and Blitzwing hates it. He makes for the flight deck to escape the festivities, and ends up musing with the most unlikeliest of bots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosted Web

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in December for ThePraxianWeasleyGeek on tumblr, and I decided to dig it back up and post it here for anyone else who's a fan of Blitzarachnia.

Blitzwing didn’t often allow himself moments of peace, or what the Autobots might call ‘reflection’, but with the Nemesis all but using high-grade as fuel in ‘the spirit of Christmas’, he didn’t have much else to do (it wasn’t like he was going to trust any of his more _unsavoury_ personas being drunk). 

His quarters were far too close to the mess hall to afford him any measure of quiet, and he wasn’t partial to freezing his wings off with a midnight winter flight, so the only other option was the Nemesis flight deck. The wind currents were warm enough that his pedes weren’t frozen to the floor with every step, and the night sky above was dusted with the icy frosting of nebulas, beaded with silver stars and - Primus, he was making his taste receptors water with the mere thought of fuel. Energon was back downstairs though, _and_ under Lugnut’s lock and key.

With a grumbled sigh, Blitzwing started his third circuit of the deck. Shuffling, stumbling over the cold metal, brought to a stop when he saw a silhouette standing at the edge of the ship’s ridge-railings. The flight deck wasn’t large by any count, so there was no way he could have missed it before… or could have dismissed those familiar two legs poking over the sloped shoulders.

"Blackarachnia?" Her helm snapped around at his question, gold glinting faintly in the moonlight before her narrowed optics took over all colour.

"What are _you_ doing here?” she hissed, turning herself to face him side-on. Her claws gripped the metal underneath them fiercely, leaving scars not unlike the ones Blitzwing usually suffered when he got on the spider’s bad side.

Tonight, he wasn’t in such a mood to be antagonising her. “I have as much right to be here as ju do, Blackarachnia,” he pointed out, crossing his stiff servos. “And not _everyvun_ on zis warship feels like vaking up vith zeir prozessors pounding, zhank ju very much.”

Her optics let up their glare, but only slightly. “I don’t handle high-grade well either…” For some reason, Blitzwing didn’t feel like making some comment on her techno-organic systems. Maybe this ‘Christmas spirit’ was getting to him… he almost shuddered at the thought. 

She’d turned back to the expanse of clouds falling away beneath them by the time Blitzwing had realised the silence freezing between them. And the way she stood, so at ease with the Earth hundreds of miles below them… she’d been here plenty times before. He cleared his vocaliser uncomfortably. “How often do ju come up here?”

"What business is it of _yours_?” she snapped, turning her glare back on him. He’d always hated it when she did that, four optics burning with a hate for everything that no normal Decepticon could muster.

"I-I juzt… nevermind…" Blitzwing contemplated just retreating back into the ship, away from this awkwardness he was making for himself- Primus, why was he even _talking_ to her? They’d never been on ‘friendly’ terms, not even when Blackarachnia had joined the Decepticons. 

Then again, if things _had_ been different…

"…A few times a week. Whenever I can get away." Blackarachnia’s sudden reply jolted Blitzwing back to cold reality. She stood differently now- helm angled up, frame slumped over the railing. Folded over, melting. Rather ironic, given their current hovering over the Arctic circle in December. 

He found himself being curious at exactly what she was looking at, his pedes carrying himself beside her. As his optics pointed up he tried to hide his shock at the heat she was giving off (maybe techno-organic systems weren’t so bad).

 _‘The sky…’_ She was watching the frantic brushstrokes of aqua and turquoise on star-scattered black canvas, each streak swirling and looping with a mind of its own. The humans called it _Aurora Borealis_ \- the northern lights. Blitzwing’s intakes hitched at the sight of it.

"I always thought Earth would be rock bottom for me," Blackarachnia said quietly, almost whispering to the night. "That I’d rather spend the rest of my life on Archa Seven than between Autobots and Decepticons…"

"But then little things like this happen…" She raised her helm up, supporting it with her servos. Blitzwing wondered if she even noticed he was there. "Little beautiful things that make me think… maybe organics don’t have it so bad. If they’re surrounded by them their whole lives. And maybe… maybe my organic side isn’t so hideous."

"It isn’t…" The mumble slipped out of Blitzwing’s vocaliser before he could catch it, and he was scrabbling for something to cover it up when she turned her optics on him again. The fact that it wasn’t a glare this time didn’t much help.

"Mein carrier alvays used to zay… ‘vhen the vorld is turning too fast to keep up, ze stars vill alvays be in ze same place’. Zhat was always somezing… that kept my problematic perzonality in place." Frag, she was still staring. Four sets of crimson going softer, softer…

"Your carrier’s wise," she said, pushing herself off the railing with one last wistful glance upwards. "If we stay out any longer, Megatron will think we’re conspiring against him," she mentioned as she made for the door that led back inside.

"At leazt we’d do a better job at it zan Starscream." Blitzwing didn’t know why he felt so proud at having made her chuckle at that. And there was still that warmth that she radiated as they descended the stairs, heat enveloping him and rubbing his iced circuits warm.

They paused at the bottom of the stairs where the corridor went three ways, exchanged a last look with Blitzwing looking down and Blackarachnia up-

Which was probably how she noticed what was hanging over them. 

"Mistletoe." The spit he was expecting in her statement never came, and she was still looking at it when his digits grazed against hers. Did she know about the human tradition associated with them?

…Did he want to tell her?

After all, they were still standing underneath it, her claws twining between his, their frames and helms drifting together-

**“Zis means jou have to kiss me, fraulein!”**

All in all, Blitzwing’s master plan to survive the night without a headache met with disaster, as he woke up the next morning with a painful dent very much present on his helm, and only knowing that Random must have had something to do with it.

And then there was the tingling still on his lipplates…


End file.
